


i put a spell on you

by theamazingpeterparker



Series: Monster Mash! [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Baker Harry, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Magic, Pining, Witchcraft, Witches, Wizard Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:32:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2502992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theamazingpeterparker/pseuds/theamazingpeterparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's really bad at potions, rhyming his spells, and flirting. He's convinced that Niall only likes him for his cupcakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i put a spell on you

**Author's Note:**

> another little magic narry for my halloween not-so-scary-monster series! title's from I Put A Spell On You by Screamin' Jay Hawkins.

Louis’s just managed to duck behind the counter when he walks into the apartment and sees Harry drop a cluster of vanilla pods into the pot on the stove. And then there’s a soft “oh _no_ ” before the kitchen explodes, purple foam splattering across the cabinets and floor and when Louis stands up, Harry’s pouting over his pot.

“Jesus, Harry. Maybe you need a real cauldron,” Louis says slowly, runs a finger through the foam on the counter and sniffs it. “Ew. What were you _trying_ to make?”

“A love potion,” Harry replies slowly, pushes out his bottom lip and turns to look at his book, wet pages almost illegible. “I think I used too much rosemary…” he lets out a whine, looks over at the stove and picks up Milkshake before she can lick at the potion dripping down the cabinets. “Hermione Granger never had this problem,” he grumbles, pushes Milkshake into Louis’s arms and starts rummaging around for his wand, lets out a triumphant yelp when he finds it and starts waving it around the kitchen. “Sorry for starting all this commotion...please help me clean up this potion?” he tries and Louis winces, closes his eyes in anticipation of another explosion but there’s a slurping noise and when he turns again the kitchen is spotless. Harry looks outrageously proud of himself and Louis can’t help but snort, puts Harry’s cat back on the counter.

“Harry, is there some witches troubleshooting hotline you can call? _Hi, I’m having trouble making a simple love potion to convince this pretty boy to fall in love with me_ \--”

Harry sighs, “--Of course there’s no hotline, Louis,”  slouches down into a chair at the kitchen table and starts flipping through his cookbook again. “Maybe if I bake it into, like….red velvet cupcakes, maybe? Do you think he’ll taste it?” He’s speaking to Milkshake, who is completely ignoring him, swiping a paw over her face to dislodge a left-over splatter of the potion.

“Harry! You can’t give that boy a potion that just _exploded_ in your kitchen--”

“--yeah but the red velvet might dilute it, or something--”

“--how do you even know he _likes_ red velvet--”

“--it was just an _example_ , Louis, it obviously doesn’t have to be red velvet--”

They’re interrupted when Milkshake jumps over to the windowsill, presses a paw to the glass and meows loudly. “Oh no, he’s here! Louis, he’s here early, I’m not even open yet--” and then Harry’s up out of his seat, grabbing his apron, shoving his cookbook back in it’s drawer and sticking his wand behind his ear. He snaps his fingers and he’s gone, leaving Louis to grumble about _where are his manners_ and _witch etiquette_ while he stomps down the stairs into the little bakery on the first floor of Harry’s building.

Harry’s got the broom working overtime around the tables and two coffee pots boiling already, looks like something out of a Disney movie while humming _Be Our Guest_ frantically under his breath. Louis flops into one of the chairs by the window and peeks through the curtains, sees the blonde boy that Harry hasn’t shut the fuck up about for two weeks approaching the shop.

“He’s almost here, H.”

Harry lets out a squawk and slams the display case of cupcakes and pastries shut, points at the door and squeaks “that cute blonde guy is coming for a visit, now my doors are open for business?!” and Louis sighs, “that doesn’t even _rhyme_ ” but the curtains flick open anyway, the _Closed_ sign on the door flips to open and Harry’s trying to tie his hair back when the bell above the door chimes.

“Really, Harry? You couldn’t have just opened shop yourself? What a _showoff_ \--” Louis starts but Harry shushes him as Niall crosses the threshold of the shop, makes a beeline for the counter.

“Good morning, welcome to Sugar Spells, I’m Harry--”

“I know who you are, Harry, I’m running late this morning though can we skip the intro can i get a blueberry muffin and Americano, please,” Niall says in a rush and half a laugh, already digging out his wallet and throwing a few bills on the counter, stuffs another couple in the tip jar. Harry tries not to look too crestfallen while he gets Niall’s order, throws an extra bag of chocolate covered strawberries into Niall’s muffin box and Niall throws a quick _thanks, have a good one_ over his shoulder as he pushes out of the shop door.

“Cold,” Louis snorts after a moment of silence and Harry leans against the counter and pouts. “He’s been coming by every day for two weeks and he never stays long enough to fall madly in love with me.”

“Maybe you should ask for his number. Like a _normal person_. Who doesn’t try to _poison_ crushes with exploding love potions.”

Harry gives Louis an incredulous look, pulls out his wand and sticks it behind his ear. “Lou,” he starts, “when have I ever been a normal person.”

*

Next time Louis comes over, Harry’s yelling at the TV from the kitchen and Louis narrowly avoids getting hit in the face with a flaming piece of paper.

“Harry! I’m not going to come over anymore if you keep _endangering my life_!”

“THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS POLYJUICE POTION!”

Louis stamps out the flaming paper, turns to see _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ on the TV and Harry glaring at the screen from the counter between the kitchen and living room. “This movie is a piece of _rubbish_ , Louis, you don’t even understand what it’s _like_ , this isn’t even proper representation...you know that Zayn told me I was the equivalent of _Neville_ , right? As if every wizard has to have some moment of redemption...maybe some wizards just _suck at what they do_ \--”

Louis ignores his rants, switches off the TV and edges into the kitchen. Harry’s got cupcake batter smeared on his cheekbone and Milkshake’s licking a spoon covered in frosting, every countertop crammed with brownies and cupcakes and cookies. Louis plucks up a chocolate cupcake, ignoring Harry’s whine of protest, takes a bite. For as bad of a witch that he is, Harry can still bake some brilliant pastries. Louis wishes he’d make pot brownies. They’d probably be perfect.

“Niall told me his favorite cupcakes are vanilla with strawberry icing,” Harry explains in a rush, pulls out another tray of cupcakes from the oven and grabs one of the bowls of frosting that’s been mixing itself, the spoon moving just as frantically as Harry’s talking. “But that’s so vague, you know? Fresh strawberries taste so much different than, like, if I were to use some kind of extract, and does he like sweet strawberries? How ripe do they have to be? And the actual cupcake, _vanilla_ , could he be any more vague?”

“You’re insane,” Louis decides, swipes a finger through one of the five frosting bowls and gets smacked on the back of the hand by the stirring spoon.

“Well if I can’t use a potion on him, I have to woo him with my baking skills, don’t I?”

“You could just get Zayn to make a potion for you, you know.”

Harry’s face hardens, the spoons start stirring more aggressively and Harry scoops the frosting into an icing bag, starts grumbling to himself as he ices the cupcakes. “Oooh, Zayn Malik, the only other goddamn witch in London who can make potions and he uses them to _sell drugs_ , how inspiring…”

“Okay, Harry, in Zayn’s defense, he owns a _smoke shop_ , and that one aster tonic he gave me that one time was better than _any_ bud i’ve ever had--”

“Not the point, Louis! Not the point! Zayn has a monopoly on the stoners in the city _and_ he’s got that cute hunk of a boyfriend and all I want is to have a monopoly on the pastry-enthusiasts of the city and get a cute blond boyfriend.”

“So...all of this...is to one-up Zayn Malik?”

“No,” Harry mutters, blushes furiously over his meticulously-frosted cupcakes. “Doing this by myself, I’m really exhausted, fill these bags and help these cupcakes get frosted.”

There’s a pause and Harry looks up over his shoulder and Louis frowns, pokes himself in the chest. “Me?”

“No, not you,” Harry sighs with an eyeroll, glares pointedly at the spoons in the bowls around him. “Hey! That was for you all!”

The spoons jump out of their bowls, start filling frosting bags by themselves and joining Harry in swirling around the tops of the undecorated cupcakes.

*

Niall arrives to an entire display case of strawberry vanilla cupcakes and a grinning Harry. “You know Halloween is only two weeks away, right?” he asks with a laugh, steps up to the counter.

Harry’s face falters, a bit, does his best to keep smiling. “What do you mean?”

Niall shrugs, jams a finger against the glass at one of the cupcakes on the top shelf of the display case and Harry goes about getting it out. “I mean most bakeries are all, like, decked out. Pumpkin spice everything. Strawberry cupcakes seem kind of… wrong holiday?”

Harry just shrugs, boxes Niall’s cupcake and slides it across the counter. “You said they were your favorite. No wrong time for favorites.”

Niall bites his lip, smiles as he hands Harry a few bills and takes the cupcake out of it’s box, takes a bite. The satisfied moan that slips out of his mouth goes straight to Harry’s crotch and he decides then and there that strawberry vanilla cupcakes are going to be a regular item on the menu. “So if you’re baking things according to my favorites…” Niall starts, swipes a smudge of frosting off his nose and sticks his finger in his mouth. “How about some cinnamon rolls next week?”

Harry grins, stuffs the bills in the cash register without looking to see where they’re supposed to go. “I’ll see what I can do.”

*

“You know what would make your bakery _really_ great,” Niall starts one morning. It’s a Sunday, Niall doesn’t have class and Harry’s just put out a fresh batch of pumpkin spice cookies. Louis and Niall are both at one of the tables, watching Harry string up fake cobwebs and skeletons. He had started with his wand but as soon as Niall came in he had to abandon it behind the counter, succumb to the manual labor of it instead. “Pot brownies.”

“Yes! _Lad_ ,” Louis shouts, high-fives Niall and Harry suppresses his groan of disapproval. 

“You ever been to that smoke shop in Knightsbridge? That hot Bradford kid owns it--”

Louis lets out a choked laugh and Harry drops the plastic pumpkin he was holding, whips around.

“Zayn’s shop?”

“Yeah! Zayn, that’s his name. What a guy.”

“Yup!” Harry squeaks somewhat hysterically. “Really goin’ places, owning a smoke shop!”

“I heard he wants to start a chain of them,” Louis starts, grins but Harry shrills “Lou!” before he can go any farther with it. One of the coffeepots behind the counter starts boiling over.

“Uh, was gonna say that none of Zayn’s little vials beat these cookies, though, Harry,” Niall finishes lamely. Harry tries playing it cool while he mops up the coffee but Louis sighs, rolls his eyes.

“Harry, did you know you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever met in my life?”

Harry throws a coffee-soaked napkin at him but Niall misses the whole exchange, too pre-occupied with sighing contently as he sips down the rest of his hot chocolate.

*

Zayn stops by sometimes. He’s a perfectly polite, handsome young man and just generally better at every magical thing compared to Harry which may be a contributing factor as to why Harry is so bitter. He can’t bake for shit, though, according to Louis, which is the only reason Harry allows him in the shop.

“Howsit, Harry,” Zayn greets, tugging Liam in along after him one slow morning, Harry’s been throwing sugarcubes and trying to catch them in his mouth. There’s about twenty of them hovering a few inches off the ground, Harry freezing them before they drop so that he won’t have to throw them all out, flicks them all back into their jar just as Zayn and Liam arrive. Zayn looks out of place in Harry’s shop, and maybe that’s what bothers Harry so much, Zayn’s all worn leather jacket and skull rings and clunky combat boots and Harry’s bakery is all natural light and windows and clean floors. Harry’s never been to Zayn’s smoke shop but he has a feeling that he wouldn’t fit in very well there, either. Regardless, they respect each other’s territories.

“Hi, Zayn.”

“The usual?” he asks, hands Harry a tenner.

Harry nods, goes behind the counter and boxes up one dark chocolate cupcake and two homemade lemon bars, slides it across the counter. Zayn stuffs most of the change in the tip jar, turns to hand the box to Liam. There’s a pause and Harry should know by now that whenever Zayn comes by it’s because he wants something.

“Here, Harry,” Zayn finally sighs, pulls something from his pocket and sets it on the counter in front of him. It’s one of Zayn’s tiny vials, a pink sticker on the cork and a scarlet red liquid inside. “It’s a love potion. For your current infatuation.”

Harry finally caves, picks up the tiny glass carefully. “Louis tell you?”

Zayn turns, sits at the closest table with Liam and plucks up one of the lemon bars. “Niall, actually. He came by a few weeks ago, needed a new pipe and rolling papers. He mentioned a cute bakery with ace brownies and I figured it could only be you.”

Harry taps the vial against the counter, gives Zayn a doubtful look. “The first day I moved in, you gave me a _good luck powder_ and it turned out to be itching powder.”

Liam snorts next to Zayn and Zayn elbows him hard. “Eat your cupcake. And Harry, come on. That was friendly hazing. I’m only giving you that because you and I both know you’re shit at potions and Niall definitely likes you. He just needs a little push.” Zayn glances over at Liam, a smudge of icing on the corner of his mouth scrolling through his phone. “It’s the same thing I used on this idiot when he was too scared to admit he liked me--”

“you _potioned_ me?” Liam raises his eyebrows, looks up. Zayn elbows him again, _shut up,_ kicks at the leg of his chair until they’re both standing. Zayn pops the last of his lemon bars in his mouth, winks at Harry. “Trust me for _once_ , H.”

*  
And now Harry is faced with a moral dilemma, because at least before, he was completely incapable of making the potion, therefore the idea of using it didn’t seem that horrible.

But now it’s sitting innocently in his cabinet, right between his vanilla and almond extracts.

He convinces himself it’s an accident when he pours it into the cupcake batter.

He tastes it, afterwards, runs a finger around the edge of the bowl and licks the batter of his finger. It doesn’t taste very different. Just fruitier, maybe. Milkshake watches from her perch on the kitchen table, gives him a condescending tail swish.

“I _know_ , you cat. I know,” Harry sighs, turns his back to her so he doesn’t feel guilty about it. He doesn’t have a sudden urge to jump anyone’s bones or start reciting sonnets but maybe that’s how Zayn’s shit works. Harry’s never tried it (doesn’t approve of any of it, honestly), but Louis and Niall have both raved about how great Zayn’s little mixtures are, so. Maybe it just doesn’t work on other witches. Or whatever.

*  
Harry almost doesn’t give Niall the cupcake the next morning, hesitates between giving him the strawberry cupcake that he asked for and giving him a plain vanilla instead. He must have been staring at the glass case too long because Niall laughs from the other side of the counter, calls out “Harry?” cautiously, rings the little bell next to the cash register a few times.

Harry hands him his order exactly, strawberry vanilla cupcake, caramel latte.

“I really shouldn’t tip you,” Niall scolds as he drops his change in the jar, “making me wait fifteen seconds longer than usual.”

Harry forces out a laugh, busies himself with cleaning the coffee pots while Niall takes his spot next to the window as always, tugs off the cupcake wrapper.

It’s all rather anti-climactic, if Harry’s being honest, Niall bites into the cake without hesitation and doesn’t drop to the floor seizing or anything, just eats the whole thing in a few bites, licks the frosting off his fingers. Harry feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin.

“Harry!” Niall laughs, loud and echoing through the empty shop, “did you do something different to these? They taste better.”

“I’m a witch,” Harry blurts, nearly vaults over the countertop over to Niall to grab the empty wrapper and trash. Can’t take the guilt that’s been eating at him all day, feels like he’s five years old again telling his mum that he was the one who broke the vase because he couldn’t take the waiting for punishment. “I’m a witch and I put a love potion in that cupcake and I don’t know _why_ , I’m sorry, Zayn gave it to me, I just wanted you to like me--”

Niall listens with a straight face until Harry’s sentence eventually tapers off. “I’m sorry,” he offers again, lamely, can’t stop staring at the blond boy’s mouth, a tiny smear of pink frosting still on his bottom lip.

“So, let me get this straight,” Niall exhales. “You’re a witch. Like, Harry-Potter type.”

Harry flinches at the name, almost goes off about it but he stops himself and just nods.

“And Zayn Malik is, too. And Zayn Malik gave you a love potion. Because you suck at potions.”

Another nod.

“And you put a love potion into a cupcake. You’ll _use a potion on me without my permission_ , but you won’t make Louis and I a batch of pot brownies.”

“Okay, when you put it like that--”

“--you know the only reason I keep coming back here every morning is to talk to you, right?”

Harry pauses, plants both palms on the table and squints across at Niall. “Are you fucking serious.”

“Of course I’m serious, Harry. There’s, like, five other bakeries within walking distance of my flat but I come here _every_ morning.”

Harry blinks. Along with potions, his communication skills have also never been all that great. “So….”

“So you used a potion on me for no reason.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you now, then?” Harry asks, lowers his eyes back to the bit of frosting on Niall’s mouth, the other boy already smiling as Harry leans across the table.

“Go for it.”

*

Niall’s sitting on the counter wearing one of Harry’s old Halloween witch hats, pointy black with a fuzzy blue trim around the brim, Milkshake in his lap, when Zayn comes in a week later. Harry’s in the middle of meticulously frosting a three tier cake for one of Louis’s sisters, almost knocks the whole thing over when he hears Zayn, “why don’t you just do that with your wand?”

“Because that would be _lazy_ ,” Harry snips back, whips around and grins at Zayn over the counter. “Hi. I think I owe you a thank you. For that thing.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything, quirks an eyebrow until Harry waves his frosting bag in Niall’s general direction. Milkshake’s standing on top of the display case of cookies and Niall’s helping himself to a fresh batch of chocolate covered strawberries, scratching at the cat’s chin until her purring hums through the shop.

“What, for my _magic_? I’m pretty sure you can say it around him now, Harry. Considering he’s your boyfriend and all.”

“No. Shut up, I know. I just don’t want to set him off because it’ll be _wand_  puns from now until I blow him later to shut him up.”

Zayn’s face crinkles and he rubs a hand over his eyes. “Not...not exactly what I needed to hear. But okay. The usual, please.”

Harry hands over the dark chocolate cupcake and lemon bars quickly, adds a complementary _thank you_ bag of chocolate-covered pretzels as he rings up Zayn’s order. “Glad it all worked out, then,” Zayn says with a warm smile, takes his bag and offers Harry his hand.

“Glad you could help,” Harry replies, shakes Zayn’s hand and for the first time in forever feels like there’s no hard feeling between them (and there probably never was, Harry was just lonely. They both know this).

Zayn salutes him, says goodbye to Niall and presses his back up against the door to leave, lemon bar already held between two of his ringed fingers. “Oh, Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“That vial I gave you? It was just kool-aid.”

 


End file.
